Kudos to the Daily Mail, for image caption wit:
D’you think they ‘saur-us? The students lifted the huge plastic triceratops over the iron gate outside the Dinosaur Museum in Dorchester

Other suggested captions:
Student Denies Theft: “Dino nothing at all.”
Dino Caper ‘Tops Museum Crime Headlines.

Related to our bad jokes, the latest daring op-ed article from the NYT on punning.

All that said: Examine, please, Exhibit A. This particular museum-like institution lives in midtown, and shall remain anonymous because, well, I work there. Bonus points if you can guess where it is, even more if you’ve actually been inside.

In said institution:
Men are required to wear full suits at all times. Dark/khaki pants or NEATLY pressed chinos. Dark socks, dark shoes. No boots.
Women are required to wear tailored skirts or dresses that may NOT be 3” or less above the knee, or dress slacks. No boots, no open-toed shoes. Pantyhose or tights at ALL times. Jackets required at all times.

Basically, the Key Words here are “Conservative Work Environment” and “Third Piece.” While this is a welcome platform for me to bitch about outmoded dress requirements, I think it might also be instructive in terms of determining higher-up attitudes toward the cultural landscape in which they hope, at least in theory, to play a part. Is the sight of my unpolished toe really going to offend a patron? Why would I wear pantyhose in July when no one else has worn them since 1989? I mean, even the President’s not wearing a jacket to work anymore.

In the coming weeks expect covert inquiries with other Visitor Services staff around the 5 boroughs combined with personal opinion on particular museum-spaces. Comments? Tips? Snarky opines on this lame idea? Hit me.

Image: Corporate Adam & Eve, Adelle Lutz.

Meantime, we found this flickriver page of photos from the Museum, which we like.

Aside from wonderful portraiture, beautiful landscapes, and cutting edge abstracts, MOBA has not been without its fair share of controversary*!

The Museum Of Bad Art has been embroilled in more than its fair share of controversaries over the years. We are most humbled to make public the fact that even within the confines of our esteemed Museum establishment, within the ranks of our very own Members, there is controversary. Pleads to make public these sordid details, to purge the Museum records of suspicion have not gone unheard. We are in the process of gathering information that shall unsully our reputation.

*not to be confused with controversy

Sweet Christ,

When [Museum Director] Linda sends me those emails titled “I’m going to run a mile on the treadmill,” or “I’m going to take a bath for an hour,” I want to puke. What the FUCK is wrong with her? I’m going to write her one with “I have to take a poop” in the subject heading.

We feel your pain, S. Now we’re going to get a haircut and a permanent and come down to the office in about two hours.

SD tipster Chip Curson CC’d us on his letter to the editor:

Dear Editor,

The article by Kara Jesella about hipster librarians in new york was typically cheesy and even grammatically incorrect (what is a “coffee shop purveyor” anyway?)… the idea that people with pink hair might also be serious about their career is only “news” to yuppies who think that banking or the medical profession are the only symbol of serious, satisfying work. also, jesella’s writing style is laughable enough to be a blog post, but i guess if she wants to give sloppy blowjobs to people who have vodka drinks AND read (gasp!!) and get paid by the times then she is very lucky. also if you want to connect parker posey and greenpoint in some godawful, nytimes-way to be really cool then i think you are super lame.

please forward her this email. i look forward to her response

best,

chip curson,
917-888-4110

Williamsburg is known for cool bistros and trendy hangouts, but few realize that the neighborhood and its environs are a magnet for hip, young librarians. Although “hip” is not an adjective generally associated with librarians, a stack of archivists, publishers, illustrators, librarians, and other bibliophiles called the Desk Set is out to challenge their image as staid.

The article goes on to describe one night of fire in which the Desk Set descended on Enid’s in Greenpoint for a raucous evening of rousing cupcakes, waiting in line for beer, and mutually assured self-satisfaction.

Look at me, acting like I wasn’t even paraphrased and all.